Loosening the Armor
Hi friend,
As my husband Zach and I continue to navigate our fertility journey, I’ve been increasingly thinking about the appropriate/optimal timing for sharing hopeful news with others.
While I recognize that this is an incredibly personal decision (and I honestly don’t think that it’s ANYONE’S business to opine on how any prospective parent chooses to protect or care for themselves during this unbelievably fraught process), it got me thinking about the broader tendency of many perfectionists to “protect” themselves by concealing their goals, hopes, and aspirations – even from (and sometimes especially from) the people closest to them.
For instance, earlier in our relationship, I regularly avoided telling Zach about “unsealed deals” that I was secretly excited about or pursuing – for instance, some award or other form of recognition I was vying for, an article I’d submitted for publication, or a positive conversation that I believed might lay the seeds for an exciting future opportunity.
Why did I do this?
To protect myself from the extra layer of pain that I believed I’d experience if any of those things failed to come to fruition.
My reasoning went more or less as follows:
“I’ll be disappointed enough if this thing doesn’t pan out.
But if I don’t tell anyone I put myself out there for it, then at least I won’t experience the additional embarrassment and shame of knowing that THEY know I tried and failed.”
Similarly, when I was notified I’d “soon” be getting a major promotion a few years back, I held off on telling any of my best friends the news until it was 100% signed, sealed, and delivered, reasoning that I was sparing myself additional disappointment if it for some reason fell through.
What does this have to do with perfectionism?
Well, as I’ve previously written, at its core, perfectionism really boils down to fear coupled with a variety of well-intended, but ultimately maladaptive, defense mechanisms.
One of these protective mechanisms is “armoring up” or hiding parts of ourselves to avoid vulnerability.
This can look like pretending that we’re totally happy, energized, and confident when our minds are actually clouded with fatigue or swirling with insecurity, stress, or disappointment (or run-of-the-mill “meh” vibes or crankiness, which are totally fine/human, too!).
It can also look like concealing our goals, hopes, and excitement to protect ourselves from experiencing what we believe will be compounded disappointment if things don’t ultimately pan out.
But – as with the other hallmark defense mechanisms of perfectionism – the problem with armoring up is that, at least when taken to an extreme, it does not ACTUALLY deliver on its promise of protecting us from pain.
And in many instances, it can actually compound it.
How?
Well as an initial matter, there’s a wealth of research in the field of positive psychology that shows that social support can turbocharge our motivation and resilience, and, in turn, maximize our ability to successfully pursue our goals.
This means that by resigning ourselves to “go it alone” by pursuing our goals in total secrecy, we’re denying ourselves invaluable social, emotional, and tactical support that could actually increase our chances of success.
But even putting that aside, it is simply not true that disappointment is less painful when we endure it alone.
To the contrary, suffering in silence/secret only amplifies shame and prevents us from capitalizing on the social support that’s been scientifically shown to help us rebound and heal – on a physical and neurochemical level, as well as on an emotional one.
For example, say something had actually derailed my promotion, my rock-star friends surely would have ASSUAGED rather than exacerbated my feelings of hurt and disappointment by pumping me up and pointing to the myriad external/bureaucratic factors that refuted what almost certainly would have been my conclusion that the change reflected my own personal failing.
Similarly, when I was recently passed over for an opportunity I’d been excited about, Zach fully stepped up by not only supporting me in my disappointment and offering positive distractions to take my mind off it, but also unequivocally refuting my inner perfectionist’s assumption that this failure would somehow diminish me in his eyes.
(Turns out my husband, like my trusted friends and family, values me for far more than my latest accomplishment – fancy that! And, yes, I recognize that, to some people, this may sound obvious, but as any recovering perfectionist will know, one can never have enough reminders of that fact.)
And this is true in the case of major traumas as well as minor disappointments. Indeed, research on post-traumatic growth (i.e., the phenomenon whereby a traumatic event or adversity leads people to fundamentally restructure or redefine how they perceive themselves and their lives in ways that promote greater overall well-being and fulfillment) shows that leaning into social support is one of the strongest determinants of whether someone will “bounce forward” following a traumatic event.
Now this of course does not mean that we should completely drop our guard and bear our souls to anyone who will listen. I cherish my right to privacy and will be the first one to recognize that forced vulnerability can do as much harm as the opposite extreme.
But it is worth considering how we might *slightly* loosen our armor to let in the people who have earned the privilege to hear our stories by supporting us unconditionally, even in times of shame.
Because dashed hopes, dreams, and disappointments are inevitable and painful enough as it is – but we should never feel like we must carry either our hopes or our disappointment and pain alone.
So today, friend, I want to thank you for being someone with whom I feel comfortable sharing my story. And I hope this post inspires you to identify at least one deserving recipient with whom you feel comfortable sharing your own.
As always, know that I am rooting for you and here to support you in any way I can on that journey!
With love,
Jordana
